Tasting Miss Kitty's Cakes: The Aftermath
by JudeDeluca
Summary: You all know the suffering that Hank, Ororo, Rogue, the Brotherhood, Bobby, Ray, Roberto, Tabitha, and Principal Kelly suffered last year due to Kitty's baking skills. Now learn what happened the day after the Professor's birthday. For L1701E.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: X-Men owned by Marvel.

Last year I did a story for L1701E's birthday. Unfortunately for me, I can't remember the exact date, but I know it should be soon, so I'll start now.

* * *

Previously...

It was Professor Xavier's birthday, and, much to the horror of everyone, Kitty had been saddled with the job of baking the Professor's birthday cake. Everyone had a different reaction.

Kurt, Jean, Scott, and Logan had all fled with the Blackbird to the Polar ice caps to hide out until the Professor's birthday had passed.

Hank had earnestly tried one of Kitty's, for lack of a better word, creations, and while it tasted alright, it caused all his fur to fall out.

Ororo had gone into a frenzy from the amount of sugar Kitty used, and went on a rampage, before they managed to catch and sedate her.

Rogue had suffered stomach pains and repetitive vomiting when Kitty had used ipecac, believing it was actually a fancy French chocolate syrup.

Lance, being Kitty's personal whipping boy, tried it, and spent a good five hours on the toilet. The resulting bowel movements and flatulence leveled the Brotherhood house.

Jubilee had avoided disaster by pretending her grandmother had just died and she was in mourning.

Sam got out of it by tripping Bobby down the stairs as an excuse to bring him to the emergency room.

Bobby suffered bonus damage some time later, when a belt buckle to the head sent him and Rogue down the stairs, breaking the other leg and putting Rogue in a cast herself.

Amara pretended she didn't speak English.

Ray pretty much sold his soul at the price of 400 dollars, and wound up taking suppositories for his damaged insides and gained forty pounds from Kitty's botched samples.

Roberto jumped out a window.

Tabitha pretended she was in a coma.

The big night finally came and, much to the anger of everyone who suffered so far, learned Kitty decided to BUY the cake.

Principal Kelly, unfortunately, wound up the lucky receiver of the rest of Kitty's burnt abortions, which blew up the school.

And for some reason, Rahne and Jamie were missing.

And now, we see what followed after...


	2. Kelly, Jamie, and Rahne

Disclaimer: X-Men owned by Marvel.

Last year I did a story for L1701E's birthday. Unfortunately for me, I can't remember the exact date, but I know it should be soon, so I'll start now.

If you're looking for any originality, you picked the wrong place.

* * *

_Principal Kelly, Jamie, and Rahne_

"Yes, classes will be canceled indefinetly until we manage to bring in some of those, um, what do you call them, those portable classrooms, as we rebuild the main building. Again." Said interim principal Frost.

"Mrs. Frost! Mrs.-"

"It is Miss Frost." Corrected the icy new acting principal behind her podium as she addressed the press.

"Have the police ruled out that this was a terrorist bombing?" One reporter asked.

"For the most part, the police have not ruled out anything."

"Miss Frost! What happened to Principal Kelly?"

"He is taking some time to recuperate from the injuries he gained from the bombing."

In a hospital room far away...

"No this isn't Principal Kelly, this is his sister." Said a brown haired woman with glasses. "I'm looking after him for now."

Kelly was sitting in a rocking chair near the window, mumbling to himself.

"No cake, I don't want, no, no cake, I don't want any cake, cake, cake no I don't..."

Back at the Institute.

"Hey, Jamie, have you noticed we didn't get any screentime in the last fic?" Rahne Sinclair asked her younger companion, Jamie Maddox.

"Well yeah, that's because we were in the basement with Forge making this AWESOME potato bazooka!" Jamie held up a gun designed to fire potatoes. "Just like the one we saw on Drawn Together."

"Pull!" Rahne said, as she filled the gun with said tuber and Jamie fired.

BLAM!

"Wow, check out the distance!" Jamie said.

"Judges?" Rahne said.

Forge: 8

Scarlet Witch: 7 1/2

Havok: 9.4

"I can assure you though, that as acting principal, there are going to be some changes around-"

WHACK!

"Oh my God!"

The reporters huddled around Miss Frost after a potato had just been fired into her face and threw her on her back.

"Whoa... you can see the plastic from her nose job." One said.

"Is she alive?"

One photographer picked up a stick and poked her eye.

"Yeah, she's alive. What do we do about that nose, though?"

"Get me a rock and a protractor!" One said.


	3. Ray and Roberto

Disclaimer: X-Men owned by Marvel. Ginger Anderson owned by me.

Last year I did a story for L1701E's birthday. Unfortunately for me, I can't remember the exact date, but I know it should be soon, so I'll start now.

If you're looking for any originality, you picked the wrong place.

* * *

Ray and Roberto

"Okay, you can do it... what it is?"

"230. Congrats, you hit a round number." Roberto chuckled.

"Did you have to use 'round'?" Ray asked.

"Way to help, Roberto." Ginger scolded as Ray stepped off the scale.

"I don't understand! Ever since I became Kitty's guinea pig, I went from 144 to 187, and since then to 230. No matter what, I just keep putting on weight." Ray whined.

"Well just how dedicated are you?" Ginger asked.

"Wolverine's been dedicating all his time to Bobby's physical therapy ever since Sam crippled him." Ray explained. "I just want to get back in shape before swimsuit season starts."

"Ooh swimsuit season, la di da." Roberto mocked.

"Why are you even here?" Ray asked.

"Well, you never know, I hear fa-... big's the in thing this season." Ginger told him.

...

"Oh geez!" Ginger cried.

"My eyes!" Roberto squealed. The two shield their eyes.

"Hey, it's not THAT bad!"

"Yeah, well, you could've warned us that it was a _speedo_." Roberto said as he shuddered. Yes, the sight of a 230 lb Ray in a black thong was not a pretty sight.

"_That_ bad?" Ray sighed.

"Well... turn around." Ginger said, doing a spiral motion with her finger. He did so. "Now let your breath out." He did so. She grimaced at the extra girth.

"Yeah. That bad."

"Hey, you've already got a biased opinion since you're my ex." Ray pointed her.

SNAP.

Went a little black bathing suit as it tore apart and feel to floor.

"Yeah, ain't nobody biased after that."

...

"Okay, Ray, since you obviously need more determination, we are going to help you get back into shape. And here's the first step."

CLICK.

"What the-"

Ginger had suddenly snapped a metal collar around Ray's neck/second chin.

"You have 150 seconds to get to the Mansion gates to get to the key. Pass out or miss the deadline, and it explodes." Ginger explained. "I got it at Hot Topic."

"You aren't-"

"GO!"

The timer went off.

The next day.

"PULL!"

WHACK!

"PULL!"

"Can, *huff*, I, *huff*, take a-"

"Less talk, more walk." Roberto said as Ray pulled the carriage.

"Easy, you're making me spill my limeade!" Ginger said as it rocked a bit.

"You *huff* could *puff* pay for *huff* lipo."

"Yes, but then I wouldn't be willing to pay to have the excess skin removed." Ginger said.

Three days later.

"Uh, I'm not really sure about this." Ray said as he stood in a ring with only a pair of sweatpants on, his bare belly and man boobs exposed to the air.

"Hey! It took a lot of energy to get this guy to agree to spar with you. Do you have any idea what multiverse hopping does to my hair?" Ginger said from referee table.

"Multi-what?" Roberto asked, sitting next to her.

"What?" Ginger asked. "Okay, you can come in, now!"

STOMP!

STOMP!

Ray stood agape at the large Japanese man in front of him.

"Ray, I'm sure you know E. Honda from the Street Fighter games." Ginger said. "E. Honda..." she said the following in Japanese. Honda turned bright red.

"W-what did she just say?" Ray asked.

"She basically said you called his mother a cheap mattress." Robert said, reading from a Japanese dictionary. "When the scary Japanese man comes running towards you, I suggest you duck."

One week later

"225? Whoo! That means I lost weight!" Ray cheered.

"A-hem, Ray, you're on the towel rack." Ginger sighed, with her eyes turned upward.

"Huh? Oh." He said as he had to life his excess gut off said rack.

"What's it say? I can't see." Ray said. The two looked down.

"Ooh..."

"Oh man..."

"What?" Ray pressed his stomach inward to see. "296?!"

"Wow, I had bet with Sam for 320."

"Not. Helping." Ginger said through gritted teeth.

The two tried to help Ray through the kitchen archway. After about four tugs, they managed to get him through.

"Oh my-whoa!"

CRASH!

Went the wooden chair as it broke under him.

"I look like Homer from that Simpsons episode where he tried to get disability. I don't understand it!" Ray moaned from the floor.

"Me either. Tell me, Ray, what EXACTLY have you been eating this week?" Ginger asked, an eyebrow raised in perplexity.

"I haven't been eating anything. I've just been drinking those diet milkshakes. The ones you told me to pick up."

"And, by any chance, did you bother to check if the labels SAID they were diet?" Ginger asked as she checked the cans in the fridge.

"Yes, what kind of fat idiot do you think I am?" Ray asked. Ginger slowly peeled off the label of a strawberry shake.

"One who doesn't bother to see if the labels have been TAPED on the cans with scotch tape."

The one under it read "Super Power Protein Shake". Roberto gulped.

"Roberto, don't they sell these at that store where you get your free weights from?" Ginger asked.

"Uh, now, don't get any-"

KA-BONG!

Went the frying pan in Ginger's hands as Roberto slumped to the kitchen floor.

Two weeks later...

"Okay, I'm ready... I can't look."

"Hmm, you are now 141. Three pounds under."

"Woo-hoo!" Ray cheered as he jumped off the scale, back to his lanky, six-packed ab self.

"Yes, it's wonderful. Now put your shirt back on." Ginger said.

RRRIING!

"Yes?" Ginger answered on her cellphone.

"Can I please stop this now?"

"Well, put Esteban on. Esteban, your _motivation_ must be _es mucho grando_. There is an _el lacking_ in _el whipping_."

"Yes, Madame."

CLICK

"What did she say."

"LESS TALK MORE WALK!"

WHACK!

"I hate my life..." Roberto cried as the scary man in the executioner get-up continued to whip him as he pulled the wheel.

Upwards, in the corporate cafeteria.

"Hey, you ever wonder what pulls the dessert wheel?"

"Well that's dangerous thinking, Bob."


End file.
